


Enough

by what_the_butler_saw



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen comes to the rescue, Cullen sparkles, F/M, Lavellan angst, Lavellan doesn't want to be Inquisitor anymore, Lavellan has a wobble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_the_butler_saw/pseuds/what_the_butler_saw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lavellan realises how hard being Inquisitor is and a sparkly Cullen comes to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> No smut but lots of fluff. Little drabble that wanted to be written.  
> The Inquisitor must have had off days right? When all she wanted to do was hand the sword back and high tail it back home. This is one of those days. Cos they can't have sex *every* day can they? :D  
> Hope you enjoy and i love getting comments :)

Ellerie opened her eyes. The furs and blankets had slipped off her during the night and she shivered. The high, high ceiling of her quarters loomed darkly overhead. 

She lay looking up for a while, feeling the chill of the mountain air on her skin, little rills of breeze raising goose bumps, making the hairs on her arms stand up. Sounds from the fortress drifted up to her. Dogs barking, Cullen’s mabari a deep resonant bark that made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. Children, men laughing, shields and swords, all noises of the day beginning at Skyhold. 

She rolled and closed her eyes. This morning she felt tired. Bone tired and done. Tears slid from her eyes. 

***** 

‘Has anyone seen the Inquisitor this morning?’ asked Cullen. The three of them were in the war room, waiting. Josephine was scribbling notes, Leliana was bent over the table, tapping her lips, thinking. She shook her head distractedly. 

‘No,’ Josephine replied. ‘This isn’t like her to be late.’ 

Cullen sighed. ‘I’ll go and see if I can find her,’ he said. 

The corridor to the war room was still open and freezing. He hurried along it to Josephine’s room, expecting at any time to meet Lavellan coming the other way. _Not like her to be late_ , he snorted to himself. The woman was lateness personified. She dallied with servants and nobles alike, she chatted to Varric for far too long, let that Tevinter mage divert her for hours. He knew that Merryden the bard had been teaching her to play the lute on top of all that. 

She was doing the job she had been appointed to do though. She was the perfect figurehead, had a clarity of vision that he wished more people had, and a sense and wisdom that belied her thirty years. If that was what the Dalish were all like it was a shame they weren’t more a part of society, and spread a little of that sense around. 

He opened the door into the main hall, his senses hit all at once with sounds and smells of laughter, people, food. All because of her. He had to concede her ability to lose herself in someone’s small talk was a skill he could do well to learn. 

He acknowledged several calls of ‘Commander,’ and briefly spoke with a visiting Chevalier from Val Royeux, all the while keeping an eye out for the errant elf. 

She didn’t appear. 

He excused himself and headed towards the Undercroft where he knew she spent a lot of time, learning how to mix the best materials for enhancing spell-making or boosting Cassandra’s survivability in the field. 

‘Morning Harrit, Dagna, she in here?’ 

‘Good morning to you Commander,’ Harrit called over the noise and heat. ‘No, not seen her yet.’ 

‘Morning Commander. You’re looking very sparkly today,’ a voice said at his elbow and he started, looking down to see Dagna with a strange eye glass covering one eye. 

‘I er … thank you. What do you mean sparkly?’ he asked suspiciously. 

‘My new eye glass, I made is using some samples of the Fade I took from the Inquisitor’s skin. I can see, almost, how a spirit sees. And you look sparkly.’ 

‘Samples?’ he asked, darkly. 

‘Just … little bits? Nothing to worry about, though now that sounds creepy and you’re probably worrying. Trust me, sparkly is good. For research purposes, can I ask what you’re thinking about?’ She lifted off the eye glass and twiddled something before putting it back on. ‘If I can calibrate this to emotions or thoughts and visual patterns it could be useful … oh,’ Dagna grinned. ‘You were thinking about _her_ weren’t you?’ she grinned. 

Cullen glowered. 

‘Oh ok, not so sparkly anymore, that’s great, it works … but … wow, not sparkly at all now. I’ll leave you alone,’ and she hurried away. 

Cullen let himself out of the Undercroft shaking his head, before opening the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters. He quickly made his way around the walkway, wondering not for the first time about the appropriateness of the Red Templar standard decorating the her private quarters and knocked sharply on the inner door before opening it. ‘Ellerie?’ 

No reply. He mounted the stairs two at a time, noting abandoned boots at the top of the stairs. Still here, though he wouldn’t put it past her to wander around bare footed. He looked around, taking in the half drawn curtains, the open doors, and the clothes she’d had on yesterday. And there was a tell-tale lump in the bed. 

He went and tied back first one set then the second set of huge curtains, before facing the bed, arms folded. ‘We’ve been waiting for half an hour,’ he said, not unkindly, but with enough of a sigh to let her know she was pushing it just a little. 

She didn’t make a noise, just rolled onto her back, her limbs loose, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. He put his head on one side, moving towards the bed. 

‘Are you alright?’ he asked. Now he could see her eyes were red and when he sat on the bed facing her he could see dried tear trails down her face. He pulled a glove off and stroked her cheek. ‘My lady?’ he said softly. 

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ she whispered, fresh tears welling in her eyes. 

‘Ah, I see,’ he nodded gently. She took his hand and curled hers around it, the feint mark on her hand flaring a slightly as she tucked his hand to her chest. He bent towards her, tugging off his other glove with his teeth and stroked her hair, looking down at her. ‘Did something happen?’ 

‘All those men,’ she whispered. ‘All those lives.’ 

‘Adamant,’ he said, and she nodded. Then she frowned. 

‘Not just Adamant. Haven, Roderick, Stroud …’ she broke off and put her cheek to his hand. ‘Nobody has the right … I don’t have the right. I can’t send any more people to die.’ 

‘They knew, every single one of them, knew and accepted what might happen. You weren’t sending anyone to die who wasn’t prepared to die for this cause.’ 

‘Nobody should have so much power over others,’ she said. 

‘You only have the right because they have given it,’ he said, catching a tear as it fell. ‘Ellerie, listen to me, look at me.’ 

She hesitated a moment, rubbing her cheek over his fingers, but she did look up. ‘The Inquisition needs a leader. I am not gentle enough -’ 

‘You’re the most gentle person I know,’ she said. 

‘With you. Not with everyone I meet. Leliana is needed by her spies, she is pulled in too many directions, Cassandra is like me, too much the soldier, and Josephine is too much the diplomat. You are gentle, level headed and caring. But you fight when you need to. You are what the Inquisition needs. A gentle touch with absolute integrity. You are easy to trust. You are easy to follow. You are this Inquisition. It is not a beast that devours lives, it is a force that shapes and saves. It is what you are.’ 

‘I’m not enough, I’m not …’ 

‘You are, and it’s happening around you now whether you think that or not.’ He pulled his hand away, stood. 

‘Come and look,’ he said holding up a blanket for her. She slipped from the bed and he wrapped her naked body, holding her close. 

He led her to the balcony and they looked down over the garden to the courtyard. People everywhere, going about their lives. Being part of the Inquisition. 

‘Whether you think you’re enough or not is almost irrelevant. They think you’re enough.’ He turned her to him, and cupped her face running his thumb over her bottom lip. 

‘I think you’re enough,’ he said, and bent, touching his mouth to hers, softly. 

She let him kiss her before pushing up on her toes to wrap her arms round his neck. ‘Thank you,’ she said. 


End file.
